


Firsts

by Matril



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Engagement, F/M, Romance, Trope Subversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-20 17:18:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matril/pseuds/Matril
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie and Darcy do a lot of things out of order - including how they get engaged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I admit, I wrote this basically as an excuse to mess around with tropes, if not deconstruct them entirely. Don't get me wrong; I love mushy romance and all that, I just lean toward the unconventional. Most of the chapters are pretty short; snippets of events over the course of a two-year timeline.

They did a lot of things out of order.

Their first dance happened about ten minutes after they met. The first time they slept under the same roof happened long before the inception of their relationship, and _long_ before she wanted to be under the same roof as him. He confessed his love – the first time – before they'd had one conflict-free conversation, not to mention actually started dating. Said dating still hadn't started when they had their first kiss. And second. And third, and maybe so many they lost count. She said yes to a date months after it had passed its expiration.

They worked out the wrinkles. They forgave and forgot and appreciated everything they had learned from doing things topsy-turvy and backwards, and in the end decided maybe it was the best possible way it could have happened. Being together a mere week and a half before a six-week separation was somehow easier coupled with an entire year of being acquainted and reacquainted and re-reacquainted with each other. It was still hard, of course, but they agreed it was nothing compared to that endless period between her departure from Pemberley and his arrival at her house, those interminable weeks filled with uncertainty and unresolved feelings and questions. The six weeks leading up to her graduation were filled with far better things.

So it wasn't really a surprise, given the unconventional nature of their relationship milestones, that everything leading up to their marriage happened out of order.

The first time they talked about marriage was during their first week of dating. That wasn't Lizzie or William's doing so much as her mother's. It was inevitable that the topic would come up when he dined with the Bennet family, no matter how diligently they attempted to steer the conversation toward other subjects. They both kept their responses toward Mrs. Bennet vague and noncommittal, but things were different when they were alone.

"We could just try to ignore it," Lizzie said later that evening, while they strolled down the street hand in hand, still reeling from Mrs. Bennet's heavy-handed hints at dinner. "But let's face it, the M-word isn't going to go away."

"Do you wish it would?" William's gaze was directed straight ahead; she couldn't quite read his expression.

"Well…." Her hand tightened in his. "It's just a little premature, isn't it?"

"Probably."

"I do have to say, though," she went on, and wondered why she wasn't absolutely terrified about what she was about to say. "I've had my mother harp on me about my 'marriage prospects' pretty much my entire life. When I wasn't dating anyone, it was just annoying. When I was dating someone, it was embarrassing and kind of a relationship killer."

"Did your mother scare off many of your suitors?" he asked, and she had to giggle that he wouldn't just use an ordinary word like _boyfriend_.

"Uh, sometimes. And sometimes _I_ scared them off. Sometimes my mom made me so furious I just kind of – ruined things. But I'm getting off topic here. My point is, tonight I didn't feel – quite as annoyed. I mean, it was annoying, don't get me wrong. And embarrassing. But not the same way it used to be."

He turned and met her eyes, and their warmth assured her she could keep going.

"What I mean is, I used to get this kind of angry knot in my stomach whenever my mom brought up marriage. And tonight, I didn't. Just kind of rolled my eyes and moved on." She smiled. "I think that means something."

"I think so too."


	2. Chapter 2

The first time they talked about marriage without any prompting from pushy mothers was just one month after she had moved to San Francisco. Their three-month anniversary of dating was approaching, and in the midst of discussing how they would commemorate the occasion, Lizzie pointed out that it would probably become ludicrous, at some point, to continue commemorating on a monthly basis.

"I mean, eventually it's just going to be a yearly thing, right?"

"Eventually, I suppose," he replied, setting down his calendar on the tiny counter in her kitchen. She had insisted on paying for her own living space just as vehemently as she had on building her own career, and her entire apartment could have fit within one room of his. She was intensely proud of this fact; he was continually bewildered by it. "I'm not really in a hurry to scale back the celebrations myself."

She laughed, picking up the calendar and paging through the months. She had assumed when he first mentioned it that, like most human beings in the 21st century, he was referring to the calendar app in his phone. But not William Darcy, he of the wax-sealed epistles and antique pocketwatches. This was an actual paper book with neat notations on every page. And there, on the 17th of each month – _Anniversary. Celebrate with Lizzie._

"Fair enough. But the time will come eventually. And it's convenient," she said cheerfully, "because it just happens to fall on the same day as my birthday. We might as well keep it simple and get married on March 17th as well."

He glanced at her, then pocketed his calendar. "That would indeed simplify matters. But wouldn't it detract from the three milestones to have all of them on the same day?"

"Nope." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Just more good things, making one day even better."

It was a joke, and he didn't mark it in his calendar – yet. But even jokes have truth behind them, and they both knew it.


	3. Chapter 3

Gradually, the certainty of their eventual marriage became implicit, woven into casual interactions, cropping up in conversation as naturally as anything else – all before they had anything like a formal proposal. Their first year as a couple passed, her fledgling business took root and became a small but significant force to be reckoned with, their relationship deepened and matured, and the question was never if they would get married, but when.

The first time anyone else realized this was quite the explosive occasion. It was sometime in May and Gigi, fresh off her first year of grad school, joined them for lunch at a café by the marina.

"I want to travel somewhere this summer," she announced, stirring her water with her straw. "Somewhere I haven't been before. What do you think, William?"

"I would suggest Egypt or Singapore," he said after a moment's reflection.

"I've been to Egypt. Haven't I?"

"No, that was Morocco."

Lizzie snorted around her sandwich. She no longer felt quite as awkward about the Darcys' lack of awareness regarding their ridiculous fortune. It was just plain funny how clueless they were.

"Do you think Egypt is a bad idea, Lizzie?" Gigi asked, wide-eyed.

"Nope. Sounds great. Go nuts! Me, I'd be happy with some boring place like Paris."

William nodded, reaching for her hand. He, at least, was becoming less obtuse about the considerable gap between their incomes. "Perhaps we'll go there on our honeymoon, then."

They were too busy sharing warm smiles to notice Gigi's face turning somewhere between maroon and purple, and only turned to look at her in alarm when she let out a noise resembling a pterodactyl screech.

"What?!" She lunged across the table, seizing Lizzie's hand out of William's. When she found nothing but bare fingers, she let go with another sound of mounting exasperation. Lizzie withdrew her hand slowly, warily, as if waiting for another attack, but William just folded his arms and smirked.

"Is something the matter, Gigi?"

She glared at him. "What is going on? How could you get engaged without telling me? And no ring? How long have you been hiding this?"

"We're not hiding anything," Lizzie said, recovering enough from Gigi's attack to be amused.

William reclaimed her hand. "We're not technically engaged. Not if you're expecting proposal stories and rings."

"But – but – that's so – you can't do it that way!"

"Why not?" Lizzie said. "We haven't done anything else the normal way."

"Yeah, but that was romantic," Gigi said, so earnestly Lizzie had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "This is just boring. You can't sit around saying, 'Oh, yeah, let's get married, sure, whatever.''"

William's mouth twitched. "That's not quite an accurate rendition."

Gigi ignored this. "It's like you're already an old married couple!"

Lizzie took a bite of her sandwich and chewed reflectively. "I look forward to being an old married couple," she decided, leaning into William and finding that comfortable spot in the curve of his arm that seemed designed especially for her. "Don't you, William?"

"Very much."

"You two are unbelievable." Gigi took a long sip of her water and set it down with a thump, sloshing it all over the table. "Please tell me you'll at least make it official soon. With a ring. And a story."

"Sorry. Can't make any promises," Lizzie said. At this point she just wanted to see how far they could push Gigi. It was too much fun.

"No," Gigi said. She was actually wagging her finger at them. "No, come on. You owe us something good."

"Owe you?" Lizzie repeated at the same time that William said, "Us?"

"Your family, your friends. Your loyal viewers."

"Seriously?" Lizzie laughed until her sides hurt. "Gigi, I haven't been airing my personal drama online in over a year. My company's been generating plenty of interesting content without having to draw from my own life. And I think we can all agree it's for the best. None of this needs to be on camera."

"Maaaybe….but you know if you posted anything at all, even a single tweet, about being engaged to William –"

"There would be a fairly explosive reaction, I'm sure," William acknowledged. "But we cannot live our lives based upon generating a happy response from a theoretical audience."

"Fine," Gigi grumbled. "But you have to do something more than – than talking casually about it. Right?"

Lizzie and William met her pleas with silent amusement, and she gave up – for the time being.


	4. Chapter 4

Gigi might have been thrilled to know that her comments triggered another first for Lizzie and William. Or she might have just been exasperated. One evening about a week later, they had a private conversation that would have eliminated all of his sister's doubts about the romance still present in their relationship. Not that it was any of her business.

Lizzie loved William's fastidiousness, his perpetually tidy clothing and hair, and she loved making a mess of it. Curled up on the couch with him, she fingered the tie that now hung loose and rumpled, the top two buttons of his shirt that she had undone. His eyes were closed, his lips parted slightly, ready to spend the rest of the evening in similar activities, but she had a different thought. "William?"

His eyes slowly drifted open. She loved that look too, as if he were wakening from a dream. "Yes?"

"Let's get married."

He straightened a little, though his expression was neutral. "Now?"

"Hmm. A tempting possibility. But not exactly what I had in mind."

"So this is a proposal." Now he was definitely smiling, in that adorable way that looked like the edges of his mouth were waging war with the rest of his face.

"I guess so."

"Isn't it terribly unromantic? According to Gigi," he began ticking items off on his fingers, "there should be candlelight, soft music – weeks of planning, a carefully rehearsed speech and an elaborate hiding place for the ring. Also, there should be a ring."

"Yeah. I assume you're terribly disappointed."

"Devastated." He pulled her into a searing kiss, and by the time they came up for air, two more of his buttons were undone and her hair had completely fled its ponytail.

"Hey," she said suddenly, "you didn't give an answer."

"I thought it was implicit. Sorry." He traced a line along her cheek. "Yes, Lizzie Bennet."

The next kiss was soft and sweet, followed up with a laugh from Lizzie. "I'm guessing that also inherent in Gigi's stipulations was the idea that _you_ would do the proposing."

"Naturally."

She turned just a little serious. "Have you been considering it?"

"Of course." He took her hands in his, gazing intently into her eyes. "I've wanted to marry you almost as long as I've loved you, Lizzie. I've never been the sort of man to seek out casual lovers."

She snorted. "Sorry. It's just – 'casual lovers.' What century are you from, really?"

William just ducked his head and smiled. "And of course I was guarded about it, at first, because I had presumed before and I never wanted to make that mistake again. I never would have pressed you if you had seemed reluctant."

"But I haven't been," Lizzie said. "I don't really do casual either. And with you –" She squeezed his hands. "From the beginning, it just felt right."

He raised his eyebrows. "Not the very beginning."

"Ha! Okay, that's not what I meant." She knew he was teasing, though. "So, _do_ you have a ring stashed away somewhere? Did I ruin the moment for you?"

"No, I'm afraid I haven't made surreptitious excursions to the jewelry store. Since you would be wearing such a ring for the rest of your life, I thought you might want some input as to what it would look like."

"Very smart. No wonder you're the brilliant CEO of a media conglomerate."

"Also, judging from past arguments," he allowed himself a slight grimace, "I doubted my ability to judge what was too extravagant."

She sighed. "True. Which reminds me. I need to make sure we're clear on certain things."

He watched her expectantly.

"I'm paying my loans myself. Just because we're getting married doesn't mean you can swoop in and rescue me."

He furrowed his brow, that look of _I don't understand at all but I love your stubbornness_. "All right."

"And I'm keeping my last name professionally. My investors and my followers know me as Lizzie Bennet, and I can't risk confusing my brand."

"That makes sense," he nodded. "Not to mention the confusion that might arise if you were associated with the Pemberley Darcys."

She gave him a wicked grin. "Does that mean you're not going to become William Bennet?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Wow. No, you can keep your name too. Are you teasing? You're way too good at that. I can't even tell."

"You should talk," he replied with a slight raise of the eyebrows and an even slighter smile.

"No, I tease gleefully. You do the deadpan thing much better. But let's focus. Seriously, this should be a give and take kind of thing. Do you have any stipulations of your own?"

"Only one." He cleared his throat, and she waited, curious about what sort of speech he was preparing to make. "Our initial acquaintance was plagued by misunderstandings, misinterpretations, and a complete failure to communicate effectively. But from the moment we began our relationship, we have both made an effort to speak openly about anything and everything. It has formed the backbone of our courtship, it has allowed us to weather a number of," he paused to choose the right words, "heated disagreements." 

Lizzie smiled ruefully. 

"We both know what we want, and we haven't kept it hidden from each other. And, in my opinion, it has led up to best sort of proposal I could have imagined. "

Lizzie enjoyed the love-addled gaze he was giving her, but where in the world was he going with this?

"Lizzie, I just ask that we both continue to do this. In whatever we face, whatever difficulties confront us, let us talk about it. Let's always talk about it."

"Absolutely," she said, and elbowed him playfully. "Could you expect anything less from a mass communications guru? You didn't have to ask."

"Yes, I did," he said. "I've learned not to assume." He smirked. "Gigi says I should know you so well I don't have to ask."

"Well, I hope Gigi is lucky enough to find a mind-reader for a boyfriend," Lizzie said. "I'll just have to content myself with you."

They contented themselves with each other for the next hour or so, after which William took out his calendar and wrote _Lizzie and I become engaged_ in his meticulous cursive.


	5. Chapter 5

The first time they looked at rings, they got in an argument about money and left the store empty-handed.

The first time they were able to reach an agreement about the engagement ring, they were far enough along in their wedding plans – sometime in late November – that they decided to go ahead and pick out the bands as well. By this point Gigi, and most of their family members, had despaired of ever spotting something sparkly on Lizzie's ring finger. Thus, at Thanksgiving they created a veritable sensation. Mrs. Bennet, who hadn't really come down from cloud nine since two of her daughters found themselves rich handsome boyfriends, was in ecstasy. Despite the fact that Lizzie had spent months assuring her that they were really, actually, officially engaged, her mother couldn't quite believe it was real until she saw the ring.

"Just look at Jane," she pointed out, with a gesture not really directed toward her eldest so much as at the venerable rock she wore on her left hand. "When she called to let me know Bing had popped the question, she made sure to send me a picture of her gorgeous new accessory _immediately_."

"Mom," Jane said from across the room, smiling in spite of her annoyance, "that was only because you demanded photographic evidence." Bing chuckled and whispered something in her ear, while Jane smiled wider and turned a faint shade of pink.

"As I should have," said Mrs. Bennet, ever un-abashed. "How can you be sure he's serious if he's not willing to put a ring on it?"

Lizzie cast a pleading look toward her father, but Mr. Bennet just looked up from his book, smiled and shook his head. He wasn't about to put a stop to this entertaining spectacle. So she seized William's arm and announced loudly, "We're going for a walk. Text me when the turkey's ready."

"Sorry," she said as soon as they were out the door and out of earshot. "That was awful, as usual."

"I think she's mellowing, actually," William said with a perfectly straight face. "Besides, that was bothering you far more than it bothered me."

"Was it?"

"Clearly." Arms linked, they started down the street. "I'm beginning to suspect that you've been deliberately going against tradition and custom in our engagement just to spite your mother."

"Hmm."

"You're not denying it."

"Well, no," she sighed. "Not when it comes to frivolous details. Rings….and…. meaningless rituals."

"Rituals like the dance between the couple who catches the bouquet and the garter?" he said innocently.

She elbowed him with a groan. "No comment. But I hope you don't think I would jeopardize what really matters just to wind up my mom. If that were the case – well, I wouldn't even want to get married. And I do. I really do." She looked up at him, and their leisurely stroll slowed to a halt. "Not because of anyone else's expectations. Just because of you."

With the heat of her annoyance thus evaporated, the remainder of their walk was pleasant and peaceful. They never discussed too much of the specifics of their work to avoid conflict of interest, but they could talk shop for hours. And it was in fact nearly two hours before Lydia texted Lizzie that the turkey was finally ready. Mrs. Bennet had chosen a particularly enormous bird this year as if the plethora of meat would guarantee more future sons-in-law, and she had severely underestimated its cooking time.

She wasn't likely to acquire any such in-laws beyond Bing and William for a while yet – Lydia had only recently felt ready to start dating again, and she mimed gagging whenever her mother suggested any of her dates might be marriage material – but their family circle had expanded in other ways. Gigi had become a de facto sister to the Bennets even before Lizzie and William made their engagement official, and she was as welcome at Thanksgiving and Christmas as her brother; perhaps even more so since she had a such a personable, easy manner in contrast to William's, loved to gush over Jane's fashion sense and Mrs. Bennet's attempts at gluten-free dishes, and had a good sense of when Lydia needed friendly energy and when she just needed space.

The more surprising addition was Caroline, who had only come upon Bing and Jane's insistence. She was far from comfortable in the Bennet home, but if she held herself a little too stiffly and her civil tone carried a note of stoniness, no one seemed bothered by it. Lizzie genuinely hoped she would thaw eventually, if only because it would make Bing and Jane happy.

It was a memorable Thanksgiving for more reasons than one. Jane waited until they had finished dinner to announce that she had gotten a promotion. She and Bing were already looking at houses. Mrs. Bennet was still in raptures over this news when Kitty escaped from Lydia's room sometime in the evening and leaped into a pie plate – a near-empty one, luckily, but she was still covered up to her whiskers in pumpkin before Lydia managed to wrangle her away. Gigi couldn't stop laughing until she was doubled over, tears streaming from her eyes. Lizzie and William slipped away once more to sit through their turkey comas somewhere quieter.

"What's the old saying?" she asked as they settled onto the sofa in the den. "If you're willing to put up with my crazy family, you must really love me."

"Not quite accurate," he replied, making her pull away from him with an exaggerated look of shock. "That is, of course I love you," he went on hastily. "I only meant that I don't merely put up with your family. I like them very much."

She softened into his shoulder again. "Oh, really?"

"Really." He cleared his throat. "It's not easy for me to express – Lizzie, you know that it was just Gigi and I for some years."

She nodded, squeezing his hand tight.

"And it is always difficult for me to accept anyone into our little circle. But when I do, I accept them completely. Fitz, Bing – they are as good as family. And now you, your sisters, your parents – you are all my family. And I could not ask for a better one."

"Great," Lizzie said thickly. "Now you're making me cry with an overfull stomach."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," she said, sniffling. "Some tears are good. Even when I'm stuffed full of turkey and pie."

It wasn't the first time they kissed in that den, nor even the first time they kissed there when she had eyes glistening with tears. Somehow it felt like a first anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

The first time they set a date for the wedding, they had to change it almost immediately. By some cruel twist of fate, they happened to choose the same day that Bing and Jane had just set themselves.

It wasn't entirely by chance. Both couples were looking to accommodate Gigi and Lydia's college schedules, so it wasn't that surprising that they would both pick a day in late May. The exact same day, though – that was just bad luck.

"It's not that I don't want to share a day with my sister," Lizzie said, poring over William's calendar with a pencil perched over her ear. "But come on, a double wedding? My mother would go insane with happiness. I don't think she'd ever recover."

"It would be rather convenient to plan just one event." Across the table, William's eyes were on his laptop screen, and she had no idea whether he was serious or just trying to wind her up.

"Yeah, that's what my dad said too," she said with narrowed eyes, plucking a grape from her fruit salad and popping it in her mouth. "Did you talk to him?"

He didn't look up. "I may have."

She hmphed. "Well, as much as it might delight my mother to get rid of two daughters on the same day, it's not going to happen. All of Bing's guests and all of yours? How would we find a place big enough?"

"Many of our friends and acquaintances are actually mutual."

Lizzie picked up a grape and flung it at him. "Please tell me you're not serious!"

William finally met her eyes, his own sparkling with amusement. "I'm not serious about insisting upon it. But if you agreed to a double wedding, I wouldn't object. My aim is to marry you. I don't have many particulars beyond that."

"Wow." She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. "You know, I'm not really that picky either. My mom's freaking out about dresses and flowers and decorations, but to me that's all just window dressing. As far as I'm concerned, the simpler the better."

"Your father agrees with you there."

"When did he say that? Have you been calling him?"

"We converse occasionally." She could not get him to elaborate any further no matter how she pressed him. He knew it maddened her.

That was back in June, long before Thanksgiving and their rings came along. By November, they had set their new date.

March 17th.

"One day is as good as another, right?" Lizzie said when William raised his eyebrows at the suggestion of turning their joke into a reality. "And this day is better than most." He just smiled, so she went on. "It's not in the middle of finals, so it shouldn't be a huge problem for ours sisters, and the venue we wanted to reserve is available then, and –"

"You don't need to convince me," he interrupted gently, taking her hands in his. "I never had any objections to begin with."


	7. Chapter 7

So the first wedding when they danced together willingly, not forced by tradition, was their own.

She had already learned that William's dancing ability was far better than their first awkward encounter made her believe, at least when he wasn't nervous and skittish and surrounded by strangers. But ability was pretty much irrelevant when they danced at their wedding. A newly-married couple, arms wrapped around each other and lost in their own world, didn't really need to dance well. They could have had four left feet and it wouldn't matter in the least.

Dimly, in the corner of her eye, Lizzie spied her mother sobbing effusively, clutching Mr. Bennet's arm for dear life. She had started crying early that morning when Lizzie emerged from her old bedroom in her wedding dress, and hadn't really stopped since. Lizzie hoped her father was supplying her with plenty of fluids. 

Jane and Bing had joined them on the dance floor, as well as Fitz and Brandon and a handful of other couples. Lydia hovered along the wall with her current boyfriend, biting her lip, then suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged him onto the floor.

Lizzie's eyes went watery. Lydia almost hadn't invited him to the wedding, saying they'd only been together a month and it was kind of jinxing things to take him to something as couple-y as a wedding – but here they were, dancing so enthusiastically people had to duck to avoid their flailing limbs.

"Are you all right?" William murmured in her ear.

Lizzie nodded, burying her face in his shoulder. "Very."

She wondered if he would point out that _very all right_ didn't make grammatical sense, but instead he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. "Happy birthday," he murmured.

"Mm. Happy anniversary." She let out a sigh of contentment. "I really didn't think anything could top my birthday two years ago, but this might."

"I hope this doesn't mean you'll feel a letdown when other birthdays are somewhat more ordinary."

"No, I think it's for the best. Excessive happiness can be a little dangerous." She nodded toward Mrs. Bennet. "I think my mom's about to faint."

He let out a low rumble of a laugh that only she could hear.

There were a lot of toasts. Rather than single out any one sister or friend as maid of honor and best man, Lizzie and William let Jane and Lydia and Charlotte and Gigi and Bing and Fitz all form a sort of hydra-like wedding party, each taking on a different set of responsibilities – and everyone wanting to have a few words at the reception.

Jane went first. The rest of them insisted on it because otherwise she would have let everyone else go before her.

"I'm just so happy that my sister has found someone who makes her so happy," she began, after which Fitz and Gigi started a running tally of how many times she said _happy_. The count was up to eleven by the end of it.

Bing was next, and his favored word was _amazing_. At nine repetitions, he didn't quite match his fiancé, but they'd have a rematch at their own wedding.

Gigi started by declaring that if it weren't for her, they wouldn't even be here today, drawing out a lot of good-natured laughter. But then she segued into her heartfelt wishes, and mentioned their parents with a quavering voice, and by the end of it not many eyes were dry.

Charlotte knew how to be brief. "I had my doubts whether my best friend would ever find someone who was the right one for her, who respected her and challenged her while being someone she could respect and challenge. But here you are, setting the bar super-high for the rest of us. Congratulations. Oh, and just remember I saw it coming long before you did."

Lizzie stuck her tongue out at her, but she was laughing.

Fitz somehow managed to cram fifteen alliterations into his speech and had everyone practically rolling in the aisles.

Lydia just lifted her glass and said, "To the two biggest, nicest nerds in the world."

Toward the end, Mrs. Bennet's euphoria hit a snag when Lizzie categorically refused to throw her bouquet.

"But it's tradition!" she moaned. "We can't really call it official until you've tossed that pretty bunch of flowers."

"My marriage status is in no jeopardy," Lizzie retorted. "You're just hoping to get me to aim at Lydia."

"When I find something that works, I stick with it," her mother said, unabashed.

Lizzie stared at her. "You really did it, didn't you? You _bribed_ Ellen Gibson into throwing her bouquet at me."

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Mrs. Bennet huffed.

"It probably would have worked a lot better if we hadn't been forced into that stupid dance together!"

"Lizzie," William said, tugging gently on her arm, "it's better not to drag this out. We have an early plane to catch in the morning, do we not?"

"True," she said, her anger dissolving for the most part. "You're lucky I learned this today, Mom. I'm in a forgiving mood."

Mrs. Bennet leaped forward, and Lizzie suddenly found herself in a suffocating embrace. "Oh, Lizzie! You're such a beautiful bride! This is the happiest day of my life!"

That statement had been uttered at least six times over the course of the last two years, and would probably crop up six more by the time Jane was married. But today Lizzie returned the hug and said, "Me too."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. Thank you all for following me along through this fluffy, unabashedly sappy fic!

They had their first fight as a married couple at the very beginning of their honeymoon – something about how he could speak French in several dialects and she could barely put together a three-word sentence, but that didn't mean he needed to speak for her like he was her translator, and so on and so on until some unholy hour of the night, Lizzie yelling and William stony-faced and curt. But they agreed, in retrospect, that it was for the best. Better to get it out of the way so they could work through it and spend the rest of those two weeks engaged in more pleasant activities.

They found a compromise. She would get by with what little French she had – a fair number of people here spoke English, after all – unless she decided she wanted his help, which she would signal by squeezing his hand twice. Then he was welcome to become her translator.

Was she being stubborn for refusing his immediate help? Though she was loath to admit it, Lizzie knew the answer was probably, yes. Was he being presumptuous for always wanting to translate? Probably also yes. But this seemed an effective solution for both stubbornness and presumption, and it got them through their honeymoon without any more fights.

She insisted on seeing all the tourist clichés; the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre; and he introduced her to few more obscure hidden treasures. The fact was, they could have spent the two weeks in his home – _their_ home – in San Francisco and still thoroughly enjoyed themselves. But halfway around the world, they were less tempted to slip in a little worktime. Whatever their other differences, they were definitely both workaholics. Lizzie wouldn't have expected it of herself, but she liked her job so much she couldn't help it. With William, of course, it was no surprise.

But this trip was absolutely work-free. It was possibly the very first time for William, ever since he took up the CEO mantle at such a tender young age. His laptop stayed shut for two full weeks; he only checked his phone now and then to ensure he wasn't missing any emergency emails. More remarkably, this absence of work didn't make him cranky or restless. That was definitely a first.

Also a first was his increasing willingness to engage in public displays of affection. Till this point, he usually drew the line at holding hands, with perhaps the occasional kiss. He insisted that it wasn't because he was embarrassed or didn't enjoy showing her affection. He was an intensely private person, and he felt that making his private feelings public cheapened them somehow.

Since their wedding, however, he seemed to have softened his strictures, and by the end of the honeymoon they had shared a kiss at every landmark in Paris.

They came home on a Thursday to give themselves an additional weekend to settle into their home together. Their home, finally and officially. Before they were married, Lizzie had been reluctant to move in together for reasons she could hardly articulate. They certainly spent enough time at each other's respective residences. Yet somehow she resisted it, feeling that she needed to get her own footing in her new life, to know she could have her own place and pay her own bills and not take the easy way out just because she had a super-rich boyfriend.

Now, however, she could offer up two years of independence as proof to any hypothetical critics, as well as William's promise that she could contribute to the paying of bills as much as she pleased, "Unnecessary though it may be," he couldn't resist adding under his breath.

She knew that money would never be a perfectly easy thing in their relationship, but it was much easier than it used to be. Lots of things were easier.

Gigi had been concerned they were becoming like an old married couple. What she really feared, Lizzie supposed, was that they would become boring. And while their lives might not always be as persistently dramatic as they were at the onset of their relationship, Lizzie doubted they would ever be truly boring. They still had plenty of firsts in the future. Some of them would be bad firsts. Others would be inconsequential. But the good ones – oh, yes, the good ones. Those were the ones that made life interesting and fun and thrilling and never, ever boring. And she couldn't imagine a better companion to share those firsts with than William Darcy.


End file.
